Blog (2023)

         I found myself perched upon a barstool, indulging in a solitary libation, when she sauntered into the dimly lit tavern and settled herself upon a vacant seat, a mere two stools away from my own. The barkeep inquired if she was indulging in her customary libation. She bestowed on him a bashful grin and acquiesced with a nod. Her boyish mane, a golden cascade kissed by the sun, bore subtle hints of earthy hues. I did reckon they weren't of the natural ilk. She possesses a cheekbone that juts forth, demanding attention, while her full and plump lips exude an air of sensuality. They were lovely, and they fit right in with her sharp face and eyes, which were the colour of the deep turquoise sea. What truly captivated me was the scar etched on the right side of her pale, delicate cheek. She didn't conceal it. The barkeep, with a sly grin, slid her libation across the counter, then sauntered my way, inquiring if I might fancy another round. I refused him, for my departure was soon to come. I dug into my pockets, pulled out a few crumpled bills, and handed them over to cover the cost of our libations. With a generous flourish, I bestowed upon the bartender a tip that would surely warm his heart, a token of my gratitude for his unwavering hospitality. She glanced my way, a smile dancing upon her lips, yet her countenance betrayed no astonishment. I rose to my feet, and as I made my exit from the smoky tavern, I caught a glimpse of her shadow trailing behind me in the mirrored surface of the door. We locked lips amidst the vintage allure of my '69 Chevy Mustang. Nothing could halt her. She bestowed upon me all that she had kept locked away. There were scars aplenty scattered across her slender frame. They, in fact, turned me wild. I couldn't recollect the hour of her departure, for when I roused from slumber, she had vanished into thin air. She was a magnificent force, a wild spirit dancing through the night. I hoisted up my denim trousers, emerged from the jalopy, and sauntered over to the trunk, where I procured a can of brew for myself. I perched upon the bonnet, puffing on a cigarette, and drained my beer as I beheld the arrival of dawn before embarking once more upon the open road. Just like her scar, she left me one to remember her by. It'll always be there.

Hello,
I know,
Please don’t go,
Love can grow,
Easy and slow.
No?

         When their presence graces the surroundings, one might occasionally perceive an overwhelming abundance of hospitality being bestowed upon them. It is simply beyond the realm of possibility to alter their essence. At this juncture, I find myself bereft of viable options to alter the prevailing circumstances. It has reached a juncture where the act of drawing breath becomes an arduous endeavour, barely within my grasp. It is merely a question of creating space within my schedule to fully embrace the essence of existence. In the vast expanse of existence, one cannot deny the ever-present potential for metamorphosis. In the ephemeral realm of existence, a mere flicker of inattention is all it takes for the delicate balance of my being to be irrevocably disrupted. I grant them the freedom to embrace their true essence, fully aware that they will effortlessly divulge every fragment of their being, unreservedly and without restraint. In the realm of creation, the birth of novelty necessitates the annihilation of the familiar. Inevitably, I find myself compelled to mend all that unravels in the wake of their presence, for there is no alternative but to do so. To put it simply, this is how we function as a whole. We are like a vast labyrinth of interconnected thoughts and emotions, navigating through the enigmatic corridors of existence. Our lives are filled with inexplicable encounters and surreal experiences where the boundaries between reality and imagination blur. We are but characters in a grand narrative, written by the whims of fate and the mysteries of the universe. And yet, amidst all this, I find no issue in acknowledging the undeniable truth that there exist individuals who are inherently unsuited for the harmonious convergence of souls. For me, the way I see it, it seems that this is how things must be. My faith, like a delicate thread, weaves through the fabric of my existence. It is a mysterious force that is my most profound longing.